Three Weeks
by 6GunSally
Summary: In which our hapless author attempts to explain what transpired in the three weeks between Mr. Tharkay's return from Turkestan and his retrieval of Mr. Laurence from captivity. ON HIATUS
1. Mr Tharkay Returns from Turkestan

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 1**

**In which Mr. Tharkay returns from Turkestan.**

Admiral Jane Roland left Excidium to sleep after he had been fed. As was her habit since Laurence's trial, she distanced herself from the muttered assumptions of the other aviators and retreated to her rooms. She poured herself a brandy, startling a little when the bottle clinked against the glass, and stared out of the window at the movements in the covert below.

Jane's latest patrol had been uneventful, but the general feeling was that the situation had come to a head and any day now the French would be upon them. Jane frowned at her glass. She blamed _him_ of course; the tension permeating the covert was due in no small part to his recent actions in France. As far as their intelligence told, the French position hadn't changed; and though she believed wholeheartedly that his only endeavor in this matter was to save the dragons, the actions of the Admiralty and the whispers about the covert and among the messes seemed to tell otherwise.

And the letter he had left as an explanation—did he mean to ruin her? But then maybe if she had said yes perhaps the whole ghastly situation might have been avoided. Jane put down her glass after a long draught and her eye caught a flash of movement from the window.

A little way out from the building stood a lank dark-haired figure in a garishly decorated coat. Frette was just leaving him, running toward the building, but Captain Granby waved up at her when he noticed her in the window and then pointed toward the Eastern horizon. Jane squinted into the gray skyline and after a few moments of confused searching she found what he was pointing at—a few small figures flying in close if rather haphazard formation.

Jane turned immediately and ran for the door. She nearly toppled Frette on the stairs.

"Admiral Roland," he said, catching his breath. She didn't wait for him to speak, only steadied him with a firm hand and continued outside to meet Granby.

He had already started back toward the covert and she was forced to run to catch up his long-legged stride.

"Captain Granby!" She shouted. He stopped and waited for her to meet him and then offered a casual salute.

"Admiral Roland, sir," He followed her gaze toward the approaching figures in the sky. He chuckled and said, "Not to worry sir. It's not the French. Mister Tharkay has returned with another dozen ferals."

"Not a moment too soon, dare I say," Admiral Roland replied.

They walked together over the rise and into the covert where Iskierka stared anxiously toward Granby while his ground crew removed her harness.

"Granby!" She said, and a wave of warm air rolled over them as she spoke, "You shouldn't have run off like that!"

"I only went to fetch Admiral Roland, Love," he said leaving Jane's side to offer a hand to Iskierka's muzzle. She nosed him affectionately.

"You should tell me where you go. You just ran off and didn't tell me, so I worried."

Jane looked past them to where a motley assortment of dragons was now settling on the far edge of the covert. She left Granby to his dragon to approach the newcomers. She frowned up at the violent sound of their hissing and shrilling Durzagh tongue. Tharkay's figure, small and dark in the distance was already repelling from the neck of a red dragon. The red dragon was the largest of the group and yet he was barely the size of a Winchester.

Tharkay was walking backward towards her motioning and shouting to the dragons. And Jane stopped in surprise as they formed a line for review. Tharkay turned and jogged up to her smiling a little.

"Admiral Roland," he said and touched the dark fur at the cuff of his domed hat. Jane took his hand and shook it heartily, trying mightily to suppress a grin.

"Mister Tharkay," she said, "You really couldn't have arrived at a better time."

"It seems I am only just in time," he said, and Jane conceded a nod at that. She studied his face for a moment but the black on black irises held no expression.

"Perhaps you might tell me about these fellows that we may correctly place them among our lines." Jane said. Tharkay nodded.

"Most of these fellows are of Arkady's band. Those eight on the left. The other four—those standing a little ways apart are Persian. The red fellow, Simorgh, claims to be descended from Zahhak."

"What is Zahhak?" Jane asked and Tharkay shrugged suddenly bemused.

"A monster in a story. Like Grendel; if you will," He scratched at his beard thoughtfully and looked toward the dragons.

"What is Grende—"

"Arkady's band are willing and quite satisfied to be here with Arkady, and they should work well with whatever plan you have for them. The Persian dragons," Tharkay shrugged, "They have Samandar blood and may prove more useful to you in the breeding grounds."

"Samandar?"

"One of the oldest pyrogenic breeds in the world. Where the Kazilik descends from."

"Mister Tharkay, I didn't realize you were so familiar with Near East Dragon breeds," Jane smiled and Tharkay's face fell into a slight look of horror before he turned away from her.

"I consulted," he said.

"How did you manage to bring in the Persian ferals?" Jane said studying them in awe.

"Our course was further south this time to avoid the cities and we met them crossing the Zagros. I speak some Persian and they seemed intrigued by our story so they came along. I offered them the same recompense," Tharkay offered a meaningful glance at Jane. She was still studying the row of dragons though the line they had formed was now very much in disarray.

"We'll do what we can, you needn't worry over that," Jane said she turned to walk back toward the building almost giddy with the thought of receiving more dragons. Tharkay's stare hardened to a cold glare, but he was calm when he spoke.

"I was also hoping to settle my account here quickly so I may be off this doomed island before the French arrive."

Jane frowned. Tharkay's brow rose indignantly.

"You'll get what's promised," Jane said, "But things have gotten quite a lot more complicated than last you were here. I no longer have the same authority in the Corps as when our agreement was made."

Tharkay continued to glare at her, and when he didn't say anything, Jane said, "Mister Tharkay, I will do everything I can to see you properly compensated. It's just going to take longer than I had ho—"

"Did you doubt my return?"

"Not for a moment, no. Laurence spoke highly of you. I had no reason to doubt…" Jane trailed off in a sudden note of uncertainty. Tharkay's eyes narrowed.

"Was he captured in Africa?"

"Well, yes he was Mister Tharkay. But that incident has little to do with the current problem we are now faced with." Jane's brow furrowed in frustration. Of course he wouldn't know, but she wasn't quite ready to relive the whole ignominious drama just yet. Not when she was in a deserted end of the covert surrounded by twelve hungry dragons and Laurence's now disgruntled Chinaman. "Let us go Mister Tharkay, and let these fellows be fed."

Jane started toward the buildings surrounding the covert, where the usual crowd of aviators and the necessary attendant crew and service staff were gathered more closely. She saw to it that Dunne and the other young officers assigned to work with the ferals were made aware of the new arrivals; and in spite of his surly demeanor, she managed to convince Tharkay to agree to start working with a few of them on learning the necessary commands in Persian.

Granby joined her in the officer's mess an hour later. His face was ruddy from running about in the winter chill, but he smiled as he sat. Jane thought she caught a whiff of rum when he did so, but perhaps it came from some other in the establishment. This was a difficult time for all of them, and in spite of the easy flow of alcohol the atmosphere in the mess was rather somber.

Granby said little to her aside from pleasantry but she asked if he had invited Tharkay.

"Tharkay put up his tent near the trees. He took tea and bread and a bowl of whatever slop they're serving in the mess tent, but he declined the invitation to join us." Granby said, "I imagine the poor fellow is quite exhausted, it is a long way to travel with only feral dragons for company."

"I'm going to have to introduce him to Admiral Sanderson," Jane said, hoping Granby was too foxed to hear the note of disdain in her voice. She wasn't sure how the Admiral would react to meeting Laurence's Chinaman—a man who looked as feral as the dragons he'd recently herded. But hopefully the Admiral would agree to pay him and let him be on his way.

Jane said little during dinner and though a few more officers joined them they seemed reluctant to engage with her. Oh Laurence, she thought to herself, see what your actions have wrought? She finished her dinner and left the Officer's Mess with no thought of the directions she wanted to go. She cursed Laurence over and over in her mind while her feet led her to Excidium's clearing. He roused as she drew near fixing an orange eye on her. Jane smiled and he lifted his head so she could put a hand on his muzzle.

"You're doing that again, my love," He said. There was a roughness to his voice now, since the illness. The beautiful resonance was now punctuated with a gravelly rattle. It was a sad reminder that led to another sad reminder. She pushed back her dark thoughts and leaned forward to kiss him on the nose.

"Whatever are you talking about dearest?" She said. Jane sat in the warm enclosure of his forelegs, reveling in the simple pleasure of it. She was only a girl when she'd lost her mother and was raised to his Captainship, and he would always be her one true love.

"That horrible frowning," he said, "You'll get wrinkles."

"I think it's a bit late to worry about that," Jane said laughing.

"The young one was here," Excidium said, "Making a fool of herself too."

"What did she do now?" Jane knew he meant Lily; he always called her the young one. But Jane didn't recall seeing Catherine in the mess, and Jane started to say so but Excidium spoke instead.

"Lily was here," he said, "And she asked the Chinaman to cook her cow for her…" He shook his great head somberly. Jane looked confused and he started to laugh. "But you see, love, the Chinaman is not really a Chinaman at all!"

Jane was puzzled; it took her a minute to work out whom Excidium was talking about. It seemed Lily had mistaken Tharkay for Gong Su.

"That young one," Excidium said, still laughing.

"What did he do?"

"Who? The Chinaman?" Excidium turned his head so he could look at her, "He told her he was not a Chinaman and also that he was a terrible cook. He told me that he's been asked to cook four times since he's been in the camp."

Jane looked appalled. The man was already heated about not receiving his pay and it dismayed her to realize that he was already receiving insult only hours after his arrival. "That's Mister Tharkay, he was Laurence's guide across the continent. Did he come speak to you?"

"Yes, very interesting fellow," Excidium said and stretched his neck out wistfully, "Reminds me of the lad your mother brought to meet me when she was—Jane, dear, you are frowning again."

"I don't understand why he would approach you," Jane said, "What is he playing at?"

"Is the fellow a villain? I did not know," Excidium turned his head to look at her again, "Shall I squash him if he comes around again?"

Jane laughed, "It would only satisfy a small care, but I do feel it suspicious that he should choose to approach you—and rather daring of him. What was he about, then?"

"Well," Excidium said rather guiltily, "I saw him and asked him to come to me. He has a very strange coat and a swarthy look to him and I know he is the man that herds the feral dragons. They are a raucous bunch and I don't appreciate the things they shout at me, so I asked him to explain some of these terms to me, that I at least can weather the insults without ignorance."

Jane's eyes widened in surprise and then she laughed, "Really dear, you've become sensitive in your old age."

"I'm hardly old, Jane," Excidium said curtly, "Any road, the swarthy fellow asked me if I was the dragon you Captained, and I said yes unfortunately."

Jane slapped a hand against his foreleg, "What has gotten into you?"

"We were two fellows having a laugh at you silly girls—you and the young one," Excidium said.

"Was there anything else?" Jane said.

"No nothing," Excidium said, "But he asked after Temeraire, so I told him what happened."

"Good, I suppose I've been spared the bother," Jane said.

"I'd really rather not squash him Jane, he is rather more likeable than that Laurence fellow you're always on about," Excidium sniffed haughtily and lay his head down to doze."

"I can't say I can agree with all that," Jane said. She stood and walked out to pat his muzzle again, "But it's better that you don't squash him—for the time being. I will see you in the morning dear."

"Good night Jane."

**A/N:** _Updated 7-7-12. Very sorry for the loooooong hiatus. Thanks to everyone who read my silly stories and especially those who reviewed (I don't think I'd have come back if not for you)._


	2. Mr Granby makes a Fool of Himself

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 2**

**In which Mr. Granby makes a fool of himself.**

It was still dark the next morning when Jane set out and only the edges of the Eastern sky showed the early morning light, pale and cold. Tharkay's tent was distinct among the few others pitched in the covert, not only by design but also by its solitary location against the trees. Jane was relieved to find that he already had a small fire going in front of it and that she would not have to wake him at so inopportune an hour. He stepped out of his tent carrying a washbasin in his arms and what looked like a piece of stick in his mouth. He glanced at her but continued to walk around the side of the tent before setting his basin down. He stood looking at her as she drew near pulling the folds of his coat more closely around himself. He took his stick out of his mouth and nodded in greeting.

Jane offered a terse smile, "Good morning Mister Tharkay," she said, "I'm sorry to intrude on you so early in the morning, but as I will be occupied for the rest of the morning and the better part of the day, this was my only chance to warn you."

Tharkay's dark eyes bored into her, though she could read neither anger nor mirth in his expression. Jane realized then that he made her uncomfortable and she almost decided not to deliver the message. He crossed his arms over his chest, the jacket he wore was in the oriental style quilted and baggy, and added an intimidating amount of bulk to his figure. He was taller than she was, but not quite as tall as Laurence. He had a lean angular face with the high wide oriental cheekbones and his eyes were narrow and dark in the pale light. A beard grown wild though rather patchy during his travels marred his jaw, while his dark hair hung loose belying his Asian roots with a conspicuous amount of wave. He looked every bit a savage.

Jane cleared her throat, "Admiral Sanderson has lately taken my post, and I spoke with him yesterday about your payment. He wishes to meet you tonight. You'll join us for dinner in the officer's mess?"

Tharkay only nodded.

"And it would behoove you to try and present yourself more properly," She said and felt guilty as soon as the words were said.

Tharkay grinned broadly, "Is there something wrong with my dress now?"

Jane was startled though whether from his smile or his comment she wasn't sure, "I trust you can come up with something suitable. I have to go now, Mister Tharkay, I will see you tonight." Tharkay just turned and put his stick back in his mouth while Jane took a step toward leaving then she paused and called to him, "It's only that I worry for your sake how Admiral Sanderson will receive you. He may not be as willing to accept…" Jane trailed off feeling more the fool for having to explain.

He was looking at her again moving the stick around in his mouth and looking rather silly. He nodded and waved her off and Jane had to be satisfied with that.

The day did not brighten but remained gray and overcast. The coast was a solid and peaceful line of gray sand and a white strip of foam at the water's edge. With the slightest incline to her signalman Jane turned the formation out over the channel. She raised her head into the wind, letting Excidium lead the patrol, and closed her eyes. She relaxed.

The wind whipped back her hair and the years. Laurence's treason was forgot, the French were withdrawn from the borders; there were no cares, no worries and she was just a girl and her dragon chasing a cloud across the sky.

"Admiral sir! Two points starboard!" The lookout called.

Jane opened her eyes and squinted into the horizon. Excidium slowed his flight and the signalman motioned quickly with the flags to bring the rest of the formation in.

"It's that fool Arkady," Excidium's voice boomed, "Looks like he's after the ships again."

Jane rolled her eyes but then brought the formation off course to intersect the feral dragons. She was surprised to find, when they were close enough to see, that the ferals had a few officers with them. Jane saw a very exasperated Dunne look up from Arkady's back. She pulled out her speaking trumpet and called to them.

"And Halt!" She said and several of them backwinged just at the note in her voice, as none of them had any command of English, save perhaps Arkady who was glad to use the few phrases he had learned.

"A prize for us!" Arkady said and then hissed. Dunne, however, perked up suddenly and called back through his speaking trumpet.

"Sir, you must make them stop! Captain Granby is at the Strait near Calais. Iskierka has left the formation, they continued north."

Jane swore. This was the absolute worst time for her to be provoking the French. Jane motioned her First Lieutenant forward. They could not afford to lose Iskierka, however willful she tended to be nor could they afford to risk Excidium. Jane raised the trumpet to her lips, "Get those beasts to land, Dunne!"

"I'm trying Captain!" Dunne's exasperated voice broke and Jane pursed her lips in dismay. Excidium lunged forward suddenly and grabbed Arkady by the tail. Jane and most of the others on the crew tumbled as he raised his shoulders and pulled dragging the smaller dragon backward. The crew shouted as one when the Longwing, having expended his momentum, suddenly dropped several feet.

Excidium let Arkady go and flapped his wings to recover his altitude. Arkady wheeled to face him. The little dragon was audacious to a fault and glared defiantly at Excidium. Jane was close enough now to see droplets of sweat on Dunne's forehead.

Excidium growled low and let a tiny spurt of acid, so fine it misted in the cold air, fly past Arkady's head. Arkady jerked his head and screamed. Jane leaned forward and shouted into the speaking trumpet as the other ferals drew in to support Arkady.

"GO! COVERT! LAND! NOW!"

Arkady looked at her in startled recognition, one claw brushed against his dinner plate medal. Jane tried to keep eye contact as best she could on a moving dragon. Then suddenly as they had appeared Arkady and his band and their hapless captains turned and raced back toward England. Jane immediately turned to the Yellow Reaper on her flank.

"Edwards, you have to stop Iskierka. I'm going to take Excidium alone to catch up her formation. As soon as you have her escort her back to the covert. Excidium can finish the watch with Lily's formation until Mortiferus comes to relieve us."

She frowned watching them leave toward the strait; it was difficult to let the chance for action pass. But she couldn't risk both dragons at the same time, nor could she leave Lily's formation open. Excidium too, like all dragons, relished the prospect of battle; but experience prevented him from complaining, and he gave effort in reaching Maximus, Dulcia, Nitidus and the rest of Lily's formation.

"But it's just not feasible!" Jane said hands splayed in exasperation. She was standing on the rise overlooking the covert and the feeding pens where Excidium was worrying the head off of his second cow. Admiral Sanderson, who had not been aloft all day, looked disheveled and tired none the less. Jane glared daggers at him, hoping she could pass along telepathically what he didn't seem to understand from her words.

"The main problem is, and I'm sure Captain Granby will concur," Jane said sweetening her tone as if she were speaking to a child, "that they seem to have accepted her as a member of the band, and not only that, but also as a de facto leader for the band. The lot of them up and followed her out of the covert, even though we had her flying in Lily's formation today. She is just not disciplined enough to work properly in formation."

"But keeping her separate from the wild dragons ought to help right? We can send all of them to the breeding—"

"They fill a useful purpose, sir. With so many dragons lost to the plague, we cannot afford to send away any of them that are willing to fight."

"We're starting to talk in circles Mr. Roland," Sanderson said dismissively, "I will see you later for dinner?"

"Yes sir," Jane said touching her fingers to her forelock. She glared at his back as he shambled toward the Corps clerical office. Jane sighed and walked back to the Officer's Billeting. She left her rooms less than an hour later with a fresh coat and trousers and a note from Granby asking if it was possible he be allowed to respectfully decline attendance at dinner. Jane chuckled to herself as she crumpled the note and walked out to find Iskierka.

It was already dark when she arrived near Iskierka's bon fire. The young dragon was slumbering and content and unaware that the group camped in her vicinity besides her ground crew and service staff included every man that quartered out of doors. Even Tharkay's odd little tent was pitched nearer the group with Iskierka's long tail curled around it.

Jane walked through the close knot of people around the sleeping dragon asking about for Granby. She found him near the fire sitting in a chair propped against his dragon's foreleg. He didn't even bother to hide his dismay at seeing her. He stood when she was near enough to speak and the smell of rum wafting from him was nearly overpowering.

"Evening, sir," he said.

"Yes it is Captain Granby," she said, "Come along now, we have our appointment."

Granby frowned in defeat and followed her away from Iskierka's warmth. Another man left the fire to follow them. Jane led them around to Tharkay's tent. Granby was slow to realize but when he noticed her direction he spoke up.

"Tharkay is here," Granby waved toward him.

Jane turned in surprise, "Oh, I didn't—you clean up well Mister Tharkay."

Tharkay just glared at her in reply.

The three of them walked back toward the Officer's Club with no words between them. Jane looked at Tharkay again, angry at his rudeness. Her compliment had been genuine. His clothing was not particularly fine and though an attempt had been made to find a close fit, the clothing was obviously borrowed. He had shaved and his hair was pulled back and plaited from the base of his neck. He looked civil and tidy—a true citizen.

Dinner proved to be interesting from the start, not that the meal itself was anymore extraordinary than any the establishment served, rather that the company came together at the same time, when often the aviators would dine at their convenience. Granby was well in his cups before they arrived and though he was not nearly as far along, it was apparent that Tharkay too had fortified himself before dinner. Catherine was there too pale and thin and confiding in a bored looking Berkley. Sutton and Little who were engaged deep in conversation of their own, a courier Captain named Meeks who just happened to be in Dover Covert. Edwards was there, and the other Captains in her formation. Jane amused herself by trying to find the logic in gathering this particular group of aviators, pausing only when the mastermind himself joined the table.

Everyone stood when Admiral Sanderson arrived except for Granby who was too drunk to realize and Tharkay who may or may not have known better but felt that he didn't care to oblige. Jane was apprehensive already, this many captains together meant only one thing, the news he had was going to be bad.

Whatever news he had, Sanderson kept it close and aside from the necessary etiquette there was very little said at the table. Jane kept her eye on Granby, whom she now wished she had excused. Captain Sanderson had berated him already for Iskierka's insubordination. Tharkay at least managed to keep him engaged if only to stop him from laying his head on the table.

"I don't want her or any of the wild ones near London, of course not!" Sanderson interjected loudly. He had been chatting quietly with Sutton and Little before his outburst. Sanderson rubbed his eyebrow sheepishly and looked around at the others. Jane kept her mouth shut, not wanting to undermine his authority in front of the other captains.

"We're moving the formations in to London," he said as plates and dishes were being swept off of the tables. "The feral dragons will stay with the small number of crew needed to handle and care for them. Iskierka and her crew will remain here with them."

"Iskierka!" Granby said loudly. He was shushed from four directions before Admiral Sanderson continued.

"They're coming, and now we should look to keeping London out of their hands. Harcourt, you will return to Loch Laggan as we discussed. We can expect movement in the next three days."

Jane looked around at the others; her mouth was pressed into a line. Granby had his head in his hands and she wasn't sure but he might have been crying. Sanderson was still droning on about the small details with the other Captains when Tharkay shot her an inquisitive look and nodded toward Admiral Sanderson.

"Admiral Sanderson," Jane said, "Mister Tharkay is here."

Sanderson looked confused for a moment and then landed his gaze on Tharkay.

"You've brought the dragons," he said, "Admiral Roland tells me that you had an arrangement between the two of you." Tharkay nodded once and when he didn't speak, Sanderson continued, "Now you understand, don't you, that we are in a very difficult position now. You will have to wait until things are under control. We are in the middle of a war, and the tide has taken a very serious turn."

Sanderson's tone was scathing and condescending, like he was reprimanding a child. Jane felt herself blush, embarrassed for Sanderson. Tharkay crossed his arms; anger creeping into his normally impassive face.

"Mister Tharkay, your contributions thus far have been invaluable to the corps. Now, especially with these changes we need you in our service. I'm sure we—"

Tharkay was already shaking his head. He stood up and looked at Sanderson directly and smiled cynically, "I was taken in once with these deceptions, I will not let it happen again."

Tharkay pushed his chair in startling Granby and started for the door.

"You cannot leave England, Mister Tharkay," Jane said more in warning than a threat, "The invasion is imminent, we cannot risk expatriates crossing over into France."

Tharkay stopped at the door and glared at her venomously.

"They could hang you for treason," Sanderson added.

"Well," Tharkay said, cornered, "It is unfortunate that has become _au courant_ as of late. Fortunately, I'm sure I can occupy myself within this nation without throwing in my lot with you."

A hard silence fell on the table and its audience, and Jane found herself completely at a loss. She looked around at the others and they seemed to be avoiding her eye. Then Granby fell from his chair with a crash.

**A/N:** _Updated 7-712. (Mostly just corrections to typos) Thanks for reading!_


	3. Mr Roland Attempts to Coerce Mr Tharkay

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 3**

**In which Mr. Roland attempts to coerce Mr. Tharkay into service for the Crown.**

Granby was still apologizing generously as Tharkay helped him along the frozen ground. He leaned heavily on Tharkay and the going was difficult as Granby was considerably taller and heavier than him. Tharkay did not say a word as they went and only stopped when Iskierka hailed them.

"What have you done with Granby!" She said and immediately scooped Granby into her protective claws. She glared at Tharkay maliciously for a moment before smashing his tent with her tail. Tharkay watched impassively.

"That was unnecessary," he said and turned to stalk back into the darkness.

"Why'd you do that?" Granby scolded as he peered between the fingers enclosing him.

"That man hurt you," she said.

"No, I fell," Granby said, "Tharkay was only helping me back here."

"Oh," Iskierka said, "Well I hope he isn't angry, and if he is—well, I'm bigger."

She tucked Granby between her forelegs against the warmth of her chest and he fell asleep immediately.

Jane left the Officer's Club after most of the others, including Admiral Sanderson, had cleared out. Outside it was cold and threatened snow. She gazed out toward the covert longingly but the chill and the late hour warned her from heading out there. She had no cheer to bring and decided not to go there with ill tidings until necessary.

"Admiral Roland," a man greeted as he passed her to enter the officer's club. Jane was startled but then turned to follow him in.

"Mr. Tharkay," she said when she saw who it was, "Civilians cannot patron this Club."

He was still standing halfway between the door and the table where they had sat their uncomfortable dinner. Jane closed the door to shut out the cold and turned to look at him directly. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold and Jane thought it an odd accent to his exotic face. He looked down at his boots and shook his head.

"Unless you are in the escort of an officer," she added, "Do you want a drink?"

Tharkay nodded and followed her to the empty bar. The Club was mostly deserted, but a few customers held out in private corners and tucked away tables. The bar though seemed safe and neutral.

"Granby is back with his dragon," he said.

"Good of you to look after him."

"She smashed my tent in gratitude," he said.

Jane's eyes widened, "I'm sorry. Have you anywhere to stay?"

Tharkay shrugged and threw back his drink. He stood to leave, "I suppose I should figure something out."

Jane motioned for refills for both of them, "I'm not quite ready to leave yet," she said and glanced sideways at him, "It wouldn't be right for you to leave me alone—"

"Why not," Tharkay said giving her a dark look, "I should think you'd be more at home here than I."

"Perhaps," Jane said, "but I was enjoying the company."

Tharkay eyed her suspiciously for a moment before sitting back down and lifting his glass, "Is Laurence really in prison for treason?" He said without looking at her.

"You're worried—," Jane paused and smiled at him, "I didn't think you cared."

Tharkay studied his hands for a moment, "I'm a little shocked at what I've heard is all…" He turned and looked at Jane directly, "Can you tell me what happened? What you know happened?"

Jane was struck by so direct a question, "I don't know where to begin…"

Jane took a draught of the watered rum they were served and then told him everything she knew. He listened intently without interruption and Jane was almost glad to be able to unload to someone besides Excidium who was liable to brush it off as silly human problems. "I had a mind to kill him myself after reading that note…"

Tharkay's mouth twitched in amusement, he almost smiled. He was silent a moment, thoughtful. "So why aren't they trying to make use of Temeraire? As long as Laurence lives—"

"It's a terrible thing though. I couldn't ask it of a dragon—Admiral Sanderson did though and Temeraire refused. I can only guess that he's done so for Laurence."

"If the French invade they will need Temeraire, couldn't he be forgiven and allowed to fight? Why hasn't—"

It's not so simple Tharkay. The Admiralty had a lot of faith in their plan to sicken the French dragons. They were pursuing us over the matter almost as soon as word got out about the theft at Loch Laggan. Some of his men, very promising officers, have been relieved. And Granby—it ruined him. He was already having problems reigning Iskierka in, but after the trials he's lost any measure of dignity he might have had." Jane shook her head; "He's in his cups more often than not most nights…" she trailed off.

Tharkay frowned thoughtfully, but did not comment anymore. She turned to find him looking at her, studying her scared face. His face blank and expressionless.

"So what will you do then Mr. Tharkay?" she asked finally, more to break the silence than out of interest. Tharkay just shrugged and fumbled with his empty tumbler. After a few moments he smiled.

"I still want to leave," Jane frowned at that but before she could interject, he said, "I'll sneak out—no one will be the wiser," Tharkay's smile stretched into and obstinate grin. Jane laughed.

"You really are an odd fellow," she said, "Tell me, why don't you accept a commission? Help up route the Frogs and then you can be on your merry way."

"I'm not really a military man—I tried it once…" Tharkay shook his head, "I don't need to indulge some requisite yearning for honor and glory in service to the King—unlike some people we know—and in all likelihood, if I did accept such an errand, I'd find my self packed up to the chokey before too long."

"You'd be made a Captain for the Aerial Corps, not a bad turn really," Jane said.

"No thank you," Tharkay said.

"We need someone like you, more than ever," Jane was almost pleading now, "With the formations moving inland and the Strait guarded only by those feral dragons and a headstrong Kazilik, a captain with a cool head that understands their language would really—"

Tharkay shook his head, but he was grinning, "You make it difficult with your flattery Admiral Roland, but I'm not in the least bit interested in all of that." Tharkay laughed and motioned for a refill. Jane stared at him in frustration.

"You would be handsomely compensated I'm sure," she said.

"With another watery promise, I'm sure," he laughed, "So far I've nothing to show for my time with the Corps but a long list of empty assurances."

"I'll make sure of them, Mister Tharkay," she said earnestly, "If it takes me years or months, if I have to plead your case to every peer of the realm…" Jane trailed off; there was no arguing with him. Jane lifted her glass and drank it quickly, she couldn't help that she was upset. Ever since Laurence's treason, her voice seemed to have grown smaller and less credible.

Tharkay boldly put his thumb against her face where the old scar marred her left eye. He traced the scar slowly, his black on black irises shined with drink and good humor. Jane caught her breath and felt the color rising to her face.

"How did this happen?" he asked her.

Jane pulled away from him, "I'm an aviator in His Majesty's Service, so surely you can deduce how I might've received such an injury."

Her tone had gone from cajoling to suddenly cold, and Tharkay was smiling at the change. Jane looked away from him; certain he was only trying to provoke her ire. They finished their drinks in silence and finally Tharkay stood up.

"It's late," he said.

"Yes," she said following him to the door. Outside it had snowed while they were in the warmth of the Officer's Club and Tharkay looked out on the clean white landscape in apparent dismay. Jane laughed.

"Just a little snow, Tharkay." He nodded and looked around again, but continued to walk with her toward her billeting. "In all fairness, Mister Tharkay, I hope you will reconsider my offer."

"I'll think on it, then," he said.

"Are you tired at all?" Jane asked when they stopped at the main door to the building. "Can I interest you in a game of Piquet?"

"Piquet?" Tharkay said stomping his feet against the cold, "You play?"

"My favorite," Jane said.

"I don't really care for Piquet," Tharkay said after a moment's deliberation, "Or pretense."

Tharkay pushed her back against the door and leaned in brashly to press his mouth to hers.


	4. Tharkay Absconds with Mr Granby's Coat

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 4**

**In which Mr. Tharkay absconds with Mr. Granby's worst coat.**

When Jane awoke the next morning addled from too much drink and too little sleep, there was no sign that Tharkay had visited her at all. In a way she was relieved, all too often the men she brought up were too conventional to make so clean a departure. She frowned at the painful memory of a scandalized Laurence waking before first light to kiss her goodbye.

Jane dressed hurriedly and left for the mess for breakfast. She ate light in the mornings and this morning especially, she had little appetite for food and more for the morning's patrol. Granby was absent this morning, but that was no real surprise considering his level of inebriation the night before. Lucky he was grounded, she thought bitterly.

The crew was bustling about Excidium when she arrived in his clearing, attaching and checking his harness straps and loading his belly netting. He bent his great head toward her when she was near enough.

"Jane, dear," He said, "How are you?"

"I'm well darling, how are you?"

"I was happy to find snow this morning, though the firedrake has come and cleared it all away. She is angry this morning, Jane."

"That's because she's grounded, on account of yesterdays fiasco." Jane said absently as she surveyed the ground crew's progress.

"I see," Excidium said, "The young one has left for Loch Laggan this morning. She said that we are going to London soon."

"Yes, we will be going, perhaps tomorrow or the next day."

"Then who will guard the Strait and patrol the Channel?"

"The Navy has a strong presence in the Strait, and Iskierka and Arkady and the other ferals will remain, here."

"I don't like the feral dragons," Excidium said, "but I feel bad for the little firedrake."

"Are you angry with me?" Iskierka asked with her head and shoulders close to the ground. Granby frowned; his heart ached to see her down cast.

"I am not," he said as he patted her nose, "but we are definitely in a quandary now, and it's because you flew off yesterday. You can't do that, you mustn't. This is going to be a very difficult post when the others leave. I'm going to be the senior Captain at this covert and no one will want to listen to me if you won't even listen to me."

"But they will listen because I'm the best dragon because I can breathe fire. And you're the handsomest captain too, because you are tall and straight and have fine things." Iskierka rubbed her muzzle against him like and over large cat and Granby couldn't help but smile. "Oh and I saw that scrub Tharkay this morning when he came to pick up his rubbish. I told him to give you back your coat and he told me that he felt he should keep it—" Granby put his face in his hands and sat on the ground in exasperation, "—and he snuck off into the trees and I couldn't find him because he's little—"

"Iskierka, darling, you must be kind to Tharkay. He is of a mind to leave us, but he would be an enormous help if he stays. He can speak Durzagh and I could certainly use the help in handling those ferals."

"But I can speak Durzagh!" She said indignantly.

"Yes but Tharkay is not going to direct them after prizes for his own purpose," Granby scolded.

"Maybe if he did he wouldn't be such a scrub," Iskierka said with her head drooping again.

It was late in the afternoon and Jane was sitting in Admiral Sanderson's Wardroom overseeing Granby's defense plan with the other captains of the feral dragons. Granby's face was pinched and pale and he spoke in a halting and trembling voice. Jane worried if the pressure of guarding the Channel alone would be too much for the relatively new captain.

The other captains were for the most part obscenely young and exponentially less experienced than even Granby. They sat up eagerly to review the maps on the tables and listen to Granby.

The one glaring exception was a man named Curran, formerly of the British Army, who had harnessed a Winchester while in India. The poor dragon had since died in the plague but Curran, having spent a considerable part of his young adulthood in the Orient, was accepted as a captain to the feral dragons.

Curran was at least a decade older than Granby. They were of like height, but Curran was burly and solid where Granby remained spare and lanky. He kept to himself for the most part and only spoke when prompted to, but he had a nature like a friendly giant, and the other young captains took to him immediately.

Granby stopped talking and scratched his cheek absently, waiting for Admiral Sanderson's comment, but Jane stood up instead. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her scar stood out red and angry in her pale face.

"Please keep in mind," she glanced at Granby and gave him a meaningful nod, "That should the French invade, you are to send advance warning first. We don't expect you to hold them here, but fall back to London."

Granby's face was unreadable and the others looked dejected and scared.

Granby was napping in a cot placed near the base of Iskierka's tail. He was still wearing his coat and boots. Jane was frowning when she looked down at him.

"Captain Granby," she said, and he sat up quickly in surprise and Jane was satisfied to see that he was quite sober.

"Good evening, Admiral Roland," he said rubbing a hand against his disheveled hair.

"Did you know that four of your dragons are missing?"

Granby gave her a blank look, "I—well…"

"Four of them Granby, and right from under your nose," Jane's voice was heavy with disappointment. Granby turned in his cot and put his boots on the ground.

"You mean the Persian dragons? They left last night. But Tharkay's gone after them," Granby said and then he shrugged, "I think."

"Did you discuss this with him?" Jane said.

Granby rubbed his neck and looked at her sheepishly, "He does that. Drives Laurence mad—but I don't know any other reason why he'd disappear."

Iskierka turned slightly and inserted her great head into their argument. "Simorgh is jealous that he can't breathe fire like I can," she said haughtily, "I know that's why he left."

"He only speaks Persian and very little Durzagh," Granby said, "There was probably some misunderstanding."

"Granby! We're leaving tomorrow! If you can't get a handle on things—"

"Don't you shout at Granby!" Iskierka stomped and leaned in closer to Jane, separating her from Granby.

"Iskierka don't," Granby said sternly, and she startled at his harsh tone before withdrawing her head. Granby looked at Jane suddenly serious, "Perhaps we should take a walk, sir."

The walked away from Iskierka's clearing in silence. Granby, who was by now quite accustomed to the warmth his dragon emitted, shivered at the sudden drop in temperature and pulled his coat more tightly around himself. He looked at Jane with a hard expression and his pale eyes were darkened by the shadows of the early winter night.

"I feel like you doubt me, sir," he said with only a touch of obstinacy, but his voice was steady now, "I know it's my own fault that you would feel I'm not up to task."

"I know you are capable Mister Granby, but—' Jane said but Granby interrupted.

"I am and I can run this covert too. Even with these dragons, the motliest, most unruly bunch of—I can do this. I will. She's getting better, I promise, I'm working on her."

"I know Granby; this assignment isn't meant to be a slight to you," Jane said, "But if you're going to take charge of the covert you need to know every dragon that's assigned here. You need to know their quirks, their needs, what makes them angry. Granby when I come to you to say that four dragons have left the covert, you need to be able to tell me why and what's being done…"

Jane trailed off. She hated to speak to Granby so, and even more she hated seeing the way his face fell into frowning and submission. He had been one of the brightest and most sought after young officers, having cut his teeth on the heavyweight Excursius and rising to the rank of Ensign while a member of his crew. Jane cursed the ill fortune that allowed Iskierka to be harnessed by him. Not everyone was fit to captain a dragon. As if hearing her thoughts, Granby's head snapped up and he gave her quite a determined look.

"Then, I'm sorry I did not have more information for you," he said tersely, "But seeing as they have already gone I would be more wisely concerned with the twenty-nine dragons that remain, and hope that Tharkay will return with the others."

"Mister Tharkay made it quite clear to me that he does not wish to continue his involvement with the Corps," Jane felt her temper rise when she said it, "I would rather you come up with a way to communicate with these beasts in formation, rather than hold out hope of our dear polyglot's return," she said sardonically, "We will be bound for London in the morning and the watch will be left in your hands."

Granby stood alone in the dark clearing watching Jane's figure stride away and become lost in the shadows. He sighed almost mournfully before turning to return to Iskierka's clearing. She nosed him anxiously when he neared her, and he couldn't help but be cheered by her attentions. He gave her a kiss on her nose, which also served to warm his near frozen lips and nose.

"I don't like the way she talks to you," Iskierka said.

"Ah well," he replied dismissively, "She's leaving tomorrow, and then I'll be the senior captain."

"Good, because you're better than all the Captains around," she said. Granby frowned thoughtfully and then stood and went to his tent. He pulled out his leather map case and unfurled them to go over the movements for tomorrow's patrol. He was surprised when Curran made a noise at the entrance as asked to be let in.

"Good evening, Captain Curran," Granby said without looking up.

"There's been some sort of disturbance among the feral dragons. Arkady has been fighting with Yakub—"

"Again?" Granby said. He stood and grabbed up his gaudily decorated coat from where he had tossed it on his cot. He was still sliding into it when he joined Curran outside and walked with him toward Iskierka's head.

"Iskierka, love, are you sleeping?" Granby called gently.

"I was Granby," she said, but she lifted her head and looked at him, "Has something happened? Do you need my help?"

"Arkady is fighting with Yakub again. Pray will you come help us talk to him?"

"Oh Arkady!" Iskierka growled, but she stood and lifted them one at a time onto her back. Neither Granby nor Curran wore harnesses and they grabbed on to the thick strap of Iskierka's harness that ran down the middle of her back. They were only going a quick hop into the next clearing.

Curran slid down from Iskierka's back and fell onto the frozen ground unceremoniously, but Granby suffered himself to be set down gently by his dragon.

"Are you hurt?" Granby said offering a hand.

"I am well," Curran replied gruffly, dusting himself as he stood. They both startled at the wailing and screeching coming from the feral dragons. They were circled around Arkady and a muddy green dragon mottled with light green and yellow splotches. He had a particularly bright gold spot over his right eye.

The two men ducked just in time to avoid a jet of flame that shot past them and between the two dragons.

Iskierka joined in their arguments, which sounded quite violent in Durzagh. Granby looked around hopelessly and noticed Dunne and several of the younger captains cowering among the dragons in the circle. The hissing and screeching seemed to be reaching a culmination of sorts and Granby shouted to Iskierka hoping to prevent a physical confrontation.

"Iskierka tell them to be silent and listen!"

Iskierka silenced them with a final whistling burst and then all eyes were on Granby. He found himself at a loss and his face colored in angry embarrassment when Curran said quietly beside him, "I wish that Oriental hadn't run off…" Curran didn't have to voice his implication.

"Iskierka, tell them that if they fight amongst each other I will be forced to take their cows."

Iskierka hesitated before translating. Arkady answered her and then she spoke again. Suddenly all of the dragons in the ring were screeching and squabbling and Granby could only stare out at them in open dismay.

"Iskierka, dear, what happened?" He said.

"They are angry that you will take their cows. Arkady asked if Admiral Roland was going to allow this. So I told them that she was leaving and that you were in charge now and they have to listen to you."

Granby put his hand on his brow; "Tell them to be quiet, please," Granby waited for her to do so and then said, "Ask Arkady why he is angry with Yakub."

"He said that Yakub has mounted Gherni without asking him," Iskierka said.

Granby looked dumbfounded, "I thought Winge was Arkady's mate," he replied stupidly.

"Arkady is the leader, all of the females belong to him," Iskierka explained, "Yakub should've asked him."

Granby looked at Curran in desperation. The other man only shrugged. Iskierka turned to the other dragons and said something. They discussed it among themselves and soon were back to raucous shouting.

"What did you say to them?" Granby asked her.

"I told them that you are the leader and therefore all of the females belong to you," she said proudly and Granby felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Arkady stomped up to Granby and leaned over him. The great head alone, with it's garish splash of red, would make three of him. Granby had lived most of his life among dragons, but Arkady's advance frightened him.

"Is-iskierka, tell them to be quiet," he stuttered, "T-tell Arkady to back dow—"

Iskierka grabbed him up in her claws. Granby watched Curran's figure shrink below him as Iskierka rose up on her haunches. Arkady was hissing viciously at her and only when Iskierka hissed back did he realize that they might actually be conversing.

"I really wish Tharkay was here now," he muttered in resignation.

"Stuff," she said looking at him, "I can talk to them for you. Besides, he's a scrub and he won't be back."

"Oh, he'll be back," Granby said absently, "he has my coat."

_**A/N:** Hi there! I don't think anyone is reading this but you. So thanks so much. The story is just starting to rev up and I worry that so far it might be a little confusing. So I wanted to address a few items before we get too far along._

_1-Slow start. Sorry this story is dragging, I promise things will pick up soon. Don't worry, I don't plan to make a chapter for each day of the three weeks._

_2-Book references. This story is written with the assumption that you have read at least the first 5 books of the Temeraire series, though there are few things based on revelations that come out of book 6._

_3-Tharkay/Jane. Sorry if you were expecting full on slash—I'm kind of figuring this out as I go. I don't think Tharkay would ever get really serious with Jane. (Nor she with him)_

_4-Granby abuse. I actually really like Granby, and he will get through this, so don't hate me for abusing him in this story._

_5-Persian dragons. Yeah, I'm fascinated with ancient Iran and the old Persian Empire, I thought it convenient that Iran was located between Turkestan and the rest of Western Europe. Probably the main OCs in this thing._

_That's all now, thanks for reading!_


	5. Mr Granby is Suspicious of Mr Tharkay

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 5**

**In which Mr. Granby reveals his suspicions of Mr. Tharkay.**

Jane left her ground crew in their preparations for departure and marched over to Iskierka's clearing. Iskierka was curled on her side with one arm curled around Granby's tent, tilting it slightly in embrace. Jane had to press up against Iskierka's arm to get into the opening.

"Mister Granby!" She said in exasperation, and Granby shot up like an arrow. His eyes were wide in surprise and color flooded into his face and ears. He gaped up at her with nothing to say. "Who is flying the patrol this morning then?"

"Dunne is out with Arkady and a few others," he said finding his voice, "I ordered the switch last night once we settled the altercation." Granby paused and yawned deeply, "Pardon me. Iskierka has had a late night, and I wanted to give her a chance to rest."

Jane's mouth was drawn into a tight line. She looked Granby up and down once more and turned and left the tent. She stalked back toward the officer's billeting to collect the remainder of her things.

On her way up the stairs she caught Frette carrying a beaten sea chest. He smiled at her nonchalantly as he passed.

Jane entered her room and paused inside to rub her temples.

"They had decided not to come back," Jane nearly jumped at the sound of his voice but she wheeled around to face him.

"Tharkay what—!"

He was sitting in a chair near her map table with one leg draped casually over its arm. He was wearing his padded jacket and his fur lined cap and cradling something fuzzy and gray in his hand. Jane glared at him with cold disdain and he enraged her further by offering a casual smile.

"I didn't want to follow them at first," he said offhandedly, "What difference does it make to me if they flutter off and fend for themselves? But then I thought, what kind of person would I be if I renege on my own good word after I have given it? People might think me uncouth."

"You brought them back?" Jane said. Her eyes widened in shock.

"For the time being. They aren't too happy living with Arkady," he shrugged and turned his attention to what Jane guessed was a rabbit or a kitten.

"Have you thought about—" Jane started to ask, but Tharkay was already shaking his head. He smiled at her again.

"But I'll stay here and help Granby with the feral dragons," he stood and the creature he was holding spread its wings to balance itself against his sudden movement.

"A baby owl," Jane said startled by the flapping wings.

"A fledgling kestrel," he corrected and held the bird up so she could see it clearly.

"What are you doing with that?"

"One of those dragons knocked the nest out of a tree. Her brothers are dead and her parents have been frightened off. She's starting fly though," he said slipping a leather hood over her head with a practiced hand.

Jane smiled, "Aw, how very kind—"

"Oh now don't get all mawkish!" Tharkay said and walked out of the room.

Jane stared at his abrupt departure. She smiled, relieved that he was staying to help. Jane moved to stare out of her window, watching the harried movements as four full formations were being packed up. She saw Tharkay and watched him closely as he strode up the rise and into the covert.

Granby squinted into the chill winter air; every now and again a puff of warm air would hit him as Iskierka twisted to retrace her path. He looked up when a shadow crossed overhead; Molnar had come over them from above. Though he had seen Tharkay perform the feat several times in the last two days, he watched eagerly for it again. Suddenly, a lithe figure silhouetted by the weak winter sun leapt from Molnar's back. Granby watched in awe as he hung in the air for a moment, like he was flying. Then the figure broke into a panic of flailing arms and legs and Granby's curiosity became concern. Molnar was too far above Iskierka for it to work and his heart sank as the falling figure neared them and his screams came into hearing range. It was Dunne coming at them in a mad headlong rush.

Then immediately, his falling stopped and Dunne was hanging in midair by two long leather straps, still screaming for his mother and all the saints in high heaven. Granby smiled when he saw Tharkay wave down before hauling Dunne back onto Molnar's back. He wasn't sure how they'd use that one anyway.

Granby watched as a line of ferals flew past each carrying a single rider. Some of the young captains had felt slighted by Tharkay's appearance, after all, he'd abandoned them as soon as he could to make for the wilderness on the other side of the empire and they'd got along reasonably well without him for over a year. But the tensions were starting to fade already, as the shortcomings in their ability to communicate were made readily apparent by their lack of proficiency.

Tharkay did not share with him the reasons for the Persian dragons' departure, and even still they maintained their aloofness accepting no riders except Demane or Tharkay himself. The four dragons were not really the better specimens of the assorted ferals he had in the covert, but Jane had made it perfectly clear that she wasn't willing to have dragons out of the group. He wasn't going to let anything undermine his fragile authority again.

Granby watched from a rise overlooking the pens as the dragons were fed. Iskierka was allowed in first and she claimed her share quickly and left to eat in private. Arkady and his lieutenant went next and made a great show of the carnage while the others looked on in anticipation. But there were four dragons standing apart from them. They reminded Granby of beaten dogs, skittish and shy. He saw Tharkay walking toward them and ran down the slope to catch him up.

Tharkay paused when Granby, red-faced and panting, drew up beside him. Tharkay just stared at him for several moments, impassive, while Granby caught his breath. The Persian dragons greeted Tharkay enthusiastically and gazed upon Granby with interest. Granby listened while Tharkay greeted them and made introductions and he decided immediately that he liked the sound of Persian much more than Durzagh.

"They wish Iskierka good health and compliments," Tharkay said turning to look at him, "They also hope that you are well." Granby responded with enthusiasm and studied them more closely.

The largest of the Persian dragons was a bright orange red that reminded him of Iskierka. He had spikes similar to hers forming an intimidating crown on his head, but the rest of his body was smooth. He was stockier in the legs and his tail was short and thick. His wings were large for a dragon of his size and there were a few holes in the membrane of his left wing. Up close he could see myriad scars over his hide. Granby wondered if the dragon had been harnessed in the past.

All four of them were small, but that was not uncommon among ferals. They were much more subdued in personality and shy around the volatile Pamir ferals, though they seemed very interested in people. The smallest of the group was a bright-eyed female—smaller even than Gherni—that had dull brown scales with a few blotches of pearlescent color on her back and shoulders. She approached Granby immediately and studied him with unabashed curiosity. Tharkay patted her nose and said to Granby, "Her name is Nargess, she used to work in the court of the Shah, but she was lured away by the prospect of freedom," he motioned toward the red dragon, "Simorgh; he and Raksh, were bred for the military, but were let go due to unwanted traits. Wrong size or wrong color. Shabrang," Tharkay motioned to the black dragon, larger than Raksh, who had a broad flat head and broad powerful shoulders, "was born amongst desert tribesmen in Southern Persia and left when his companion died."

Granby offered his hand to Simorgh and the dragon put out his inquisitive tongue, long and snake-like, to test his scent. "You flew very well, today," Granby said.

Tharkay shot him a glance but didn't translate. Simorgh said something and Tharkay only shook his head. Granby's brow furrowed, could they be plotting something? The dragons started to speak among themselves and Tharkay was making no effort to translate for him. He let it go on for a few minutes before grabbing Tharkay's shoulder.

"What are they saying?" he said. Tharkay gave him a dark look and shrugged him off. Simorgh addressed Tharkay directly and his answer sounded very negative to Granby. Tharkay spoke with them until they left for the pens to receive two cows to share among themselves. Then he turned to Granby and said, "I don't think you need to worry about them, at least for the time being."

"Do they have a complaint about the covert?" Granby said when he found Tharkay later that night. He had decided to forgo pleasantry and ask him directly. Tharkay was sitting in front of his tent near a small fire feeding small scraps of rabbit to a gray raptor. He refused even to look up from his chore and meet Granby's eye.

"Tharkay, I don't appreciate you keeping things from me," Granby said, he could feel the heat rushing to his face as he spoke, "How am I supposed to keep things settled in this covert if you don't properly report?"

"I don't report to you," Tharkay said in cool defiance. The bird screeched and flapped her wings. Granby swore.

"I'm not here to question the sequence of things," he said, "But I have orders to protect the Channel with whatever resources I have at hand. You're the only one that can speak to those dragons. If you won't tell me what they are saying, I am left to believe that they mean to incite some mischief within the covert. I—"

"Granby you are making very ugly insinuations about this," Tharkay said innocently, "They are not plotting anything of the sort."

"Then why don't you tell me what they said?"

"Because I don't think you will like it."

"I am the senior commander of this covert!"

"And I am a man who has happened along your company," Tharkay smiled and Granby swore again and stomped away from Tharkay's tent only to turn around and stomp back to him.

"I have gold," he said and Tharkay laughed as he hooded his kestrel and stood to put her in her cage. Granby followed him, "I will pay you to stay here and report to me."

"I don't want your gold Captain," Tharkay said not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

"If you mean to be difficult I will have you tied," Granby said red faced and fuming. Tharkay made a face of exaggerated fear and sat back down beside the fire.

"Oh my," he said derisively and Granby called him a rude name.

The next morning found Granby irritable and ill from the previous night. He had his hands clenched on the harness straps so tight his forearms ached. Tharkay had joined them on the ground as they readied the patrol but when Granby said he'd rather not have a man at his back that he couldn't trust, Tharkay only shrugged and left the clearing.

With Tharkay absent, the Persian dragons refused to fly; with four dragons grounded, several of Arkady's band decided they would rather not fly either. Out of thirty-three he only had nineteen on patrol. Granby cursed out loud but it was lost to the wind. Just thinking about it infuriated him. His frustration had kept him up most of the night and he'd been forced to find sleep and solace in a bottle. He was starting to doubt himself again.

After another uneventful patrol made more somber by Granby's dour mood, the captains saw to the feeding of the dragons. Granby stalked off almost as soon as they landed to brood in his tent. He noticed that Tharkay's things had been gathered into a small neat pile topped with the caged kestrel and it made him curse as he entered his own tent.

His old coat was folded neatly on his cot. Granby didn't like it—if it was meant as an apology he found it to be cowardly. Besides, Granby thought sourly, this was Tharkay, and the gesture probably had a cryptic and ultimately derisive meaning. Granby reached out a hand to grab up the old coat and then paused in dismay to see the gaudy gold braid in the sleeves of the coat he was wearing.

Granby stripped off his decorated coat and petulantly pulled the other on. He had bought it used years ago from another aviator and even then it was several inches too short and showed too much wrist. He struggled in the constricting sleeves of the coat before taking it off and letting it fall on the floor.

Granby dropped himself face down in the cot and closed his eyes. Before he even had a chance to draw in a sigh he heard rising wails of Durzagh outside. Granby groaned in complaint and covered his head in his arms. The noise continued to grow and finally Granby stood and pulled on his coat in all its tawdriness. He paused at the tent opening to run his fingers through his hair and stepped out.

He looked up shocked to see Curran being helped along by Dunne and Allen as they made their way toward the administrative buildings.

"Curran, what—" Granby started to say.

"Nothing to worry about," Curran replied through clenched teeth, "The Oriental has them quieted now." Curran gave a hiss of pain through his teeth and urged the other two onward.

Granby frowned and hurried back to the clearing near the feeding pens. The first thing he saw was Iskierka as she was lying at the edge of the field her gaze directed at the proceedings in the center of the field with rapt attention. Arkady and his lieutenants, Winge and Molnar, were composed and relaxed. They rested on their bellies with their legs splayed awkwardly to the sides like rock lizards. Simorgh and his tiny band were more agitated sitting upright on their haunches with their forelegs straight. The other dragons and most of the rest of the captains were ringed behind Arkady. In the center Tharkay was moving around his arms gesturing as he spoke.

"Are you well, love?" Granby said when he was near enough to Iskierka.

"I'm not hurt," she said and put her head down dejectedly, "He told me to be quiet. He said I was making things worse."

Granby put a hand on the side of her neck behind her jaw. He didn't want to respond to that. He was angry that someone would have the audacity to correct his dragon, and yet he'd suffered the results of her well-meant mischief. He was shocked too that she would even listen.

"He said it in Turkish," Iskierka said dismally as if hearing Granby's thoughts.

Tharkay spoke with the dragons for almost an hour switching back and forth from the abrasive Durzagh to the musical Persian. They seemed satisfied when they finally turned to find their sleeping spots. The other captains filed out toward the mess and Tharkay was standing alone in the center of the clearing. Granby wasn't sure because the distance was substantial, but he thought the man was looking at him. Granby let out a sigh and then waved him over.


	6. Mr Bonaparte Attacks England

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 6**

**In which Mr. Bonaparte Attacks the British at the Strait of Dover.**

"It's the worst thing really," Granby said, "the waiting."

Tharkay nodded solemnly.

"I'm a little overwhelmed too," Granby continued, "I don't know if I'm really ready for this kind of responsibility. I hate to admit it, but I'm only just getting used to being a Captain. I never expected to receive a dragon of my own, you see…" Granby trailed off.

"I'm going now," Tharkay said.

"Of course," Granby stood with him and offered a hand, "I'm sorry about the last few days…"

Tharkay just shook his head, laconic as ever, and turned to walk away.

Granby rubbed his face as if he could wipe away his unease like the sweat and grime that accumulated during the last patrol. He reached under his cot for the bottle and stared at it in his hand for a few minutes before setting it back down. He went outside instead.

Iskierka was fast asleep and the ragtag group of captains huddled around the fire. Granby startled when he felt a tug on his coat sleeve. It was Demane glaring at him with a hard look on his face.

"When we go an attack them?" he said bluntly and Granby thought he heard the conversation around the fire die down. He raised his head and looked around the camp before answering the boy.

"It is not up to us," Granby said, "We're waiting on the French."

Granby left the group before anyone else could stop him. The bickering among the dragons had ceased but still the pall of waiting was dragging their spirits down every day. Granby was a wreck, the pressures of maintaining the covert in the midst of crippling anticipation was ruining him. He walked away toward the tree line and vomited against the first tree he found.

"Drunk as a lord again—" Granby jumped and nearly slid into his own sick, but Tharkay grabbed his arm to steady him. In his other hand Tharkay was holding a small rabbit recently deceased.

"What do you mean by sneaking about!" Granby said nearly shouting, Tharkay replied by letting go of Granby's arm and covering his nose and mouth against the smell of sick. "How did you get a rabbit so quickly? You just left!"

"There was a snare," Tharkay said.

"Snares? You can't set snares in these forests, I shouldn't have to explain—"

"I didn't set them," Tharkay said.

"Who is setting snares in the forest?" Granby said, "As if I need more mischief to settle." Tharkay smiled as Granby became more and more agitated.

"I have a contract," Tharkay said, "I can have one rabbit every other day for the kestrel so long as I don't tell anyone."

Granby glared at him incredulously, "Tharkay? Really?"

"He pays up too," Tharkay added and held up the rabbit, "unlike some people I know."

Granby started back toward the fire, but Tharkay grabbed his sleeve and led him to his own tent. They sat by the fire in silence while Tharkay dressed the rabbit and then brought out the bird to feed it. Tharkay made no move to help or acknowledge Granby.

Granby just sat and stared blankly past Tharkay's fire to the large fire near Iskierka.

"I almost wish they would attack us tonight," Granby said, "And end this maddening waiting."

Tharkay shot him an inquiring look and then stood to put the bird in its cage. He returned with a cup for Granby. Granby took it gratefully only to be disappointed to find that it was water. He drank it while Tharkay moved around his little camp, and was startled when Tharkay handed him a bowl of rice.

"Oh yuck," Granby said, "Don't you have anything to go with it?"

Tharkay laughed at him quietly and handed over a pair of lacquered sticks like the Chinese used. "You should eat."

Granby poked at the rice with the sticks noncommittally, "Why don't you just go to the mess?"

"The mess has been closed for the last two days," Tharkay said, "I imagine there is not enough of a demand for their services as of late."

Granby looked at Tharkay and then at the knot of people crowded near Iskierka, "Where do they eat? Surely, I would know if the entire covert is forced to live off the land."

Tharkay motioned toward the buildings on the edge of the covert, "No one is suffering for it."

Granby had no skill with the sticks and after finally managing three grains he handed the sticks back to Tharkay and tipped the bowl into his mouth. He made a face as he chewed and looked over to see Tharkay poking quietly at the fire.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Granby said.

"I only have one bowl."

"Oh," Granby said, "Why do you pitch your tent so far away? It's much warmer near Iskierka."

"She's smashed it once," Tharkay said, "I don't think it'd survive another attack."

Granby nodded thoughtfully and tipped the rest of the rice into his mouth, swelling his cheeks immensely. Tharkay was struggling not to laugh as he accepted the empty bowl from Granby and served himself. Granby stared at him in awe as he worked the chopsticks. He thanked Tharkay and stood to leave, but Tharkay grabbed him and pulled him down.

"Tharkay, really, what is it that you want?"

"I want you to spend a night sober for once," Tharkay said bluntly.

"Oh," Granby said.

Granby felt himself shaken awake the next morning, or it should've been the next morning, but it was still dark outside and orange embers were glowing in Tharkay's little fire pit. Granby sat up angrily when he realized Tharkay was nudging him none too gently with his odd leather boot.

"Tharkay what—!"

"Cannon fire," Tharkay said and took off running for the covert. Granby glared at him; he didn't hear anything and took a moment to gain his bearings. He stood up, stiff with cold. Tharkay had let him fall asleep outside without a blanket. Granby was busily loosening his stiff muscles when he heard the faint rumble and boom in the distance. There were cannon firing in the strait. He started running at once toward Iskierka, relieved to see that as he neared them, his crew was busy harnessing her.

"Granby," she said in rushing excitement, "It's a battle! Granby! Where have you been?"

"I was talking to Tharkay," Granby said as he adjusted the rings and buckles of his own harness, "Has everyone gone to their places?" Granby said turning to his First Lieutenant.

"Aye Captain," the young man said.

Granby nodded and then looked up at Iskierka and she hopped up excitedly and dropped down again, "All lies well," she said. Granby and his crew scrambled aboard.

Granby was excited and he couldn't help but grin boyishly as he bent low over Iskierka's neck and watched for their targets. He did not rise and look around himself, but he was conscious of the other dragons in the air around him. The light rush of their wings around him and their shadows in his periphery all contributed to his feeling of relief and utter focus, the waiting had been driving him mad.

And good too was the quiet movement of his group flying in three lines—not a formation like he'd grown accustomed to in the more than fifteen years he'd been in the harness—not really, but gratifying none the less, because, for the first time since he'd been captain, they were flying together as one. A unit more than thirty strong, beating against the wind and headed for the smoke and blast of a much-anticipated battle.

The sun came out of the clouds and started to burn off some of the fog, but it did nothing to ward off the icy wind hurling against them. Soon the sails of the blockade came into view and Granby nodded to his signalman, and the young man started to beat out a pattern with a practiced grace and the formation started to take real shape.

Molnar flew out to the right and above Iskierka's wing with Dunne on his back and two unharnessed ferals flanking and Arkady out to the left and above, with Demane on his back and two other ferals flanking. Granby didn't look, but he knew Tharkay was above him on Simorgh and two feral dragons from Arkady's band. Directly below Iskierka was Winge carrying her own captain and flapping her wings in synch with Iskierka. The remainder of the dragons came together in a loose shifting band in front of Iskierka, low enough to engage but high enough to be out of Iskierka's line of fire.

Granby barely had time to register his seeing three full formations already engaging the French, before his line arrived and fell upon the French dragons. Two Longwing formations, Excidium's and Mortiferus's and Admiral Sanderson's Parnassian leading Lily's formation were overrun by French lightweights, some of them merely courier weight.

Granby and his ragged band of feral dragons proved more adept at breaking through the French defense, they being small themselves and more used to close quarters skirmishing. Granby raised his speaking trumpet to his lips and called out the signal, his signalman, Harker, whipped through them with the flags almost as he spoke. Granby's head jerked to look when he heard Tharkay whistle sharply up above him and he turned to see Winge shoot forward and away from Iskierka.

Iskierka folded her wings and dropped sickeningly fast. She opened her wings and shot past the French line and toward the heavyweights arriving from Calais. Several of Granby's crew cheered at her maneuver but Granby quieted them with a "Steady fellows!"

Iskierka raced toward the incoming French heavyweights and Granby felt a sudden sinking in his chest as he counted them; four Petit Chevaliers and one Chanson-de-Guerre. Five. Five heavyweight dragons and Iskierka was all alone. She continued to race toward them and Granby's hands gripped his harness straps so tightly his knuckles were white and his nails dug into the flesh of his palms.

She twisted suddenly to the right to flank the group and shot a jet of flame directly into the face of one, causing him to drop suddenly into the waters of the strait below. Granby gasped and only then realized he'd been holding his breath. The dragon struggled in the water for several dragging minutes screaming in agony before he was able to rise out and turn back to Calais. Granby noted in horror that several of the figures on his back hung limp in their harnesses.

Iskierka didn't let his focus stray for too long and dropped quickly again and raised her head to fire into the belly of the next dragon setting off the cargo of munitions in his belly-netting and leaving him screaming and yowling in white terror. Granby blinked; he couldn't believe it. This time the dragon did not rise up after he fell into the water and the narrow straits were suddenly tinged rose from all of the blood. It had been too easy, five heavyweight dragons and not one engaged her. Iskierka bellowed in triumph and made for the next one.

"Captain Granby! Those are our ships!" Harker screamed red faced and hoarse. Granby was suddenly aware of several voices shouting his name in the rush and din of the battle.

"Iskierka! Turn around!" Granby shouted. He repeated it several times and soon the crew joined him in an eerie chant. She was blinded by her bloodlust and spurred by her recent victories. Granby flinched when suddenly a large blue form rose up in front of him forcing Iskierka to backwing some and lift herself almost perpendicular to the ocean below.

"Those are our ships!" Granby heard Jane's voice husky and low from shouting, "Turn back now! Granby don't let her near our ships!"

Granby and his crew were shaken about as she tried to maneuver away from Excidium and he felt himself lose purchase and drop into a dead hang from the harness.

"Oh God!" Granby heard the signalman yell from some arbitrary point to his right.

Granby kicked at her back, "Iskierka! We're falling! Iskierka!"

"Granby!" Iskierka said, "What's wrong with Excidium?"

Granby relaxed in spite of the rolling twist she performed next to pull out of Excidium's path, at least she was listening again. "Iskierka! You mustn't engage them, they are too close to the blockade!"

"But I can stop them," her response was defiant but she was already turning back toward the shore.

"You need to help the others," Granby said, "Excidium and Mortiferus."

Granby relaxed some as she approached the cloud of small French dragons harrying the coastal defense. Mortiferus' formation had long since broken and Granby saw a streak of blood on Captain St. Germain's pale and delicate features as she pulled in to the right and parallel to Iskierka.

"We need to draw back and regroup, this is an utter mess," she shouted at Granby.

Granby turned when she spoke to him and only just caught sight of the blue and red hide of a Garde-de-Lyon descending on Iskierka's left shoulder. She turned her head to fire but the French were already leaping to board her. Molnar dropped onto the French dragon's back and latched on with his claws and Granby saw them fall away on the edge of his vision just before the powder blue covered shoulder of a French aviator slammed into his face. The arms of another circled him around his elbows pinning his arms to his sides.

"Granby!" he heard St. Germain's voice, muffled and distant.

"Granby!" Now Iskierka shouted so loud he could feel it vibrate in his chest. Granby twisted and struggled against the men holding him to no avail. Then Iskierka spun and he felt the odd sensation of floating before the sudden crush of the Frenchman's weight fell on him as Iskierka righted herself. The other man that had been holding him was gone.

Granby gasped wildly for air and felt a blade press awkwardly against his collarbone. Granby turned and found himself face to face with the signalman, Harker, who was standing lifeless in his harness, held up by the inertia of their flight.

Granby felt a rush of hot air as Iskierka let loose a jet of flame and two small blue dragons were suddenly gone. Arkady was in the opening they had left growing rapidly larger until finally Granby was able to see Demane pointing a pistol in his direction.

Granby flinched in anticipation of the shot.


	7. The Battle Presses On

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 7**

**In which the Battle Presses on in an Alarming Manner.**

Granby didn't cry out as the angry iron ball went through his shoulder and into the chest of the Frenchman holding him. The Frenchman was gasping and sputtering behind him, the man's terrible struggling continued for what seemed a horribly long time.

Granby closed his eyes in relief as the crush of the Frenchman's weight was pulled from him. Strong arms encircled him around his chest and pulled him roughly into a standing position. Granby looked to see it was Curran and then turned to look at Harker's position. Tharkay was standing there holding a young French officer at bay with an evil curved knife.

"Are you hurt?" Curran said.

Granby didn't turn away from Tharkay to answer, "I'm well—I… The ball… I was—I…"

"We're not taking prisoners," Curran said and Tharkay's look darkened. But he complied by stepping aside and tugging the man so that he fell overboard. Tharkay nodded to Granby and then put the blade between his teeth and leapt across to join Demane on Arkady.

"Fellow's crazy," Curran said. And Granby went limp in his arms.

Excidium pulled alongside Iskierka, the others in his formation stayed together nearby, almost enclosing Iskierka. Jane called over to Granby.

"Is he hurt?" She said.

"Yes," Curran said, "He took—"

"I'm fine," Granby said, straightening. He was very pale and trembling slightly.

"Can you cover Animosia's position in Lily's formation? Admiral Sanderson has been struck."

"Do you hear that Iskierka?" Granby said. Excidium's formation turned as one toward the blockade and the concentration of the French heavyweights, only to be turned aside by another group of lightweight dragons. "You need to cover Animosia's spot in Lily's formation.

"You're not hurt Granby?" Iskierka said turning her head to glance at him.

"Lily needs us, love," Granby said, avoiding an answer.

Curran gathered the long leather strap and hooked the carabiner to Iskierka's harness before leaping back onto Molnar.

"Keep the ferals on the French lightweights," Granby said to him as he left.

Animosia moved immediately to return to the covert before Iskierka was near enough to take her place. Iskierka moved in quickly beside Maximus under Granby's careful direction. Granby strained in his harness, he was sweating profusely from the pain of his wound, and the stress of keeping Iskierka in line with the others.

Berkley was looking curiously at him from Maximus's back, "Granby are you well?"

But Granby didn't have time to answer before the lot of them were harried again by the seemingly endless mass of French lightweights.

"I can't use my fire while I'm in this silly formation," Iskierka whined as they turned as one to make another pass. She hadn't had time to train adequately for formation flying and she had not the same discipline for it that others did. She was constantly speeding up and slowing—her wingbeats out of time with the others.

"Steady girl, we need to protect Lily," Granby said mechanically as they circled yet again trying to break through the small French dragons.

"Excidium, do you see that?" Jane said, but Excidium too seemed very confused by it. She shot at Tharkay when he popped up beside her on a little red dragon and he gave her a very reproachful look.

"Evening Admiral," he said and she noted the roughness in his voice from shouting.

"Don't be angry Mister Tharkay, you came out of nowhere, and I didn't hit you so you have nothing to complain about!"

"It's a hook or a harpoon of some kind," He said pointing to the hovering Parnassian, "They've got them stuck in the hull and are trying to pull the ship."

"Oh my," Jane said, "What are we to do about that?" She was mostly thinking out loud but she was startled when Tharkay answered her.

"I think we should stop shooting at each other," he said. Jane glared at him and he urged the little red dragon forward and away into a crowd of French dragons, scattering them.

Jane urged Excidium forward only to have him caught up by three blue dragons. He shot a jet of acid that knocked one immediately away only to have the gap filled by another. Jane ducked instinctively as a volley of fire rang out from her riflemen behind her. Then the entire crew was shaken as Excidium reared to raise his head above the swarm of attackers. He turned his head quickly letting his acid splash in an arc over them. It wasn't enough to deter them completely but Excidium used their moment of hesitation to push past them and regroup with his formation.

French ships began to move in where their heavyweights were harrying the ships in the British blockade. Their guns firing an endless volley against the British dragon formations. Iskierka dropped out of formation and went for the nearest one before Granby had time to protest.

"Iskierka!" He shouted, "You must get back into formation!"

"It's a French ship," she said and paused to let out a jet of flame, "I could—"

"Get back in formation Iskierka," Granby repeated, "Or so help me I'll turn you out."

Iskierka backwinged a moment and turned to rejoin Lily's formation without another word. Granby had never seemed so furious.

But her moment of recklessness had cost them dearly, as Immortalis and Nitidus—not realizing that she had gone, were cut off from the formation and a Pecheur-Raye was coming up alongside Lily's right flank, his boarding party already prepared to jump across to Lily's back.

Iskierka lunged for the middleweight, her determination brought on somewhat by guilt, and clamped her jaws onto his whipping tail. The dragon screamed and bellowed out a number of curses in French, his jerk of shock and pain sent a number of his boarding party that had unhooked themselves to leap across to Lily fell instead into the churning waters below.

It was small consolation to see the blue and white stripes dripping with red at the French dragon's retreat. Nitidus was injured severely and had to be taken aboard Maximus and Immortalis barely had enough in him to return to the shore. Thus, Lily's formation, broken and fatigued returned to the covert.

Excidium's formation too was driven to land by the bombardment of French cannon. Jane looked around in shock to see most of the dragons gathered there. She counted the number of injured and had a difficult time hiding her emotion. Jane sighed, there wasn't time. She found Granby and his crew and sent Iskierka to an area outside of Tunbridge Wells where the alluvial plain formed a sort of natural covert away from the town itself. Several of the dragons still able to fly, but too injured to fight also went with her.

The French guns continued to fire as the day faded into the early dark of winter while small teams of Yellow Reapers mixed with ferals cycled in and out to try to break the French defense. But it was of no use as the now constant barrage from the French cannon held them at bay. She thought it was pepper but with the blackness of smoke to contrast it Jane could see it glowing and burning—no doubt some new weapon conjured by Lien.

The Navy at least had done their part for most of the day but even they were struggling now against the onslaught. None of them in the Corps could move in close enough to discover the French tactic against the blockade below.

Granby sat staring blank and pale faced into the fire. He'd bled through his shirt and waistcoat but after the surgeon had patched him up he hadn't bothered to change yet. His coat, unmarred but for the small round bullet hole, had been draped over his shoulders.

Iskierka was resting finally after worrying over him for most of the afternoon. As the cold gray light of the winter fled more and more of the other dragons gathered near them. The dragon surgeons were kept busy with the countless small injuries associated with the claws of smaller dragons and rifle shot.

Demane joined him in the ring around the fire leading a young Ensign about his age. It took Granby a second look to realize it was Emily Roland. The two of them were near enough for him to hear them speaking to each other in low tones a pastiche of Chinese and what he guessed was Demane's own African language. It was a secret language that kids were wont to make up to keep their secrets and he couldn't help but listen curiously to them.

Finally Emily stood and approached him with a determined expression and asked if she could sit beside him. Granby obliged but only for the sake of his own curiosity.

"Well girl," he said, "You've grown. I almost didn't recognize you."

Emily shrugged and offered a terse smile. Then she set her large eyes, shining and dark in the firelight, on him looking very forlorn and Granby swallowed.

"Granby," she said, using a more familiar tone even though they were no longer of the same crew, "Are we to be taken by the French?"

Granby stared at her unsure of what to say, "It could happen." He was very quiet when he spoke and almost unable to hide the tremor in his voice.

"You know," Emily said, "If we had Temeraire—"

"Don't, Roland," he said and shook his head, "It won't do any good to wonder about it."

"I don't mean 'if maybe'," Emily said, "I mean we should find him and bring him here, then we could get Temeraire to fight. Since we are in the very midst of battle, they won't turn him away."

"You don't understand, you're too young…" Granby said dismissively, and he refused to look at her—not wanting to meet the disappointment in her young face. "We would do better to forget about Laurence and Temeraire all together."

Jane dismissed a weary looking Berkley and he walked away to rouse Maximus. They had to try something new. Molnar and Winge landed heavily in the clearing, startling her and she watched as the random mix of ground crew personnel rushed the two dragons to help take down weary captains and crew and the makeshift harnesses the feral dragons wore.

Jane watched them for several minutes before Frette grabbed her arm and pointed mutely at the cliff's edge. Jane looked up to see a lone Pascal's Blue hovering erratically above their position. She looked around frantically for Captain Warren and saw him sitting against the foreleg of a sleeping Nitidus. He caught her stare and held it before looking up at the French Pascal's Blue in surprise. Warren was on his feet and running toward Jane when the small dragon landed.

Jane saw then the lone Captain struggling with Tharkay; finally they had someone to question. She started immediately toward the captured dragon, Warren was beside her and Frette also as they ran toward the prisoner. They were hardly in shouting distance when the dragon bucked and then threw himself backward off of the cliff and over the churning black waters of the Channel below; and Tharkay—who no one understood on the best of days—cut the thin strips of leather holding him and the young captain secure to the dragon's harness, and the two of them fell into the water below.

"Oh," Jane said. While the others that were with her looked very confused. The lone French dragon screamed in loathing and sorrow for the captain she'd lost. She didn't cry for long before three of the feral dragons rushed her in mid-air and brutally attacked her. Everyone on the cliff top watched in horror at the savage attack. They weren't watching the fourth feral dragon, small and red, that dove into the water to look for Tharkay.

The panic subsided after a few minutes when Jane ordered Maximus with the rest of Lily's formation to go in again. There would be time later for distraction. She had Excidium take her up to she could view the battle with her glass. The French Navy was moving in now that the larger ships were held by the French heavyweights.

Maximus drove in with Messoria, and the Yellow Reapers from Animosia's formation. They were once again brought up short by a cloud of small French dragons. Jane followed Maximus and his formation over the blockade, she only now realized just how many dragons the French had sent against them. Their formations had brought down at least a dozen maybe two or three dozen, but it was nothing in the face of what seemed to be several hundred dragons.

Maximus and the others in his formation returned bloody and disheartened. Jane found Berkley comforting Maximus while his surgeon worked on the long gashes he'd returned with. Berkley left Maximus's side reluctantly to approach her.

"They're coming across," he said, "Soldiers filling anything that floats and each an escort of dragons and artillery to stop us on the beach."

Berkley didn't wait for her to reply and returned to his dragon's side.

Granby stood and watched as his ground crew harnessed Iskierka, he felt that familiar panic in his gut, for the news had not been good. Few of the dragons present at Tunbridge wells were fit enough for the flight north to London and the possibility of a fight once they got there. The rest of them were headed further west toward Portsmouth Covert, were at least facilities were available there to handle the care of injured dragons. Iskierka had her eye on him and watched him with great concern and at one point lowered her head toward him.

"Granby, are you well?" She said.

"I am darling," he said, "You mustn't occupy yourself in worry."

"Did you eat well? You look pale—not that it in any way makes you less handsome –and I promise that at my earliest convenience I will have a new coat made for you, warmer than what you are wearing now."

"Oh Iskierka," Granby said, "I don't think there will be time to worry over new coats. I do quite well as it is with the five coats I have."

"Two of them at least should be thrown away as they are not fine and I must have you always be fine," she said.

"Are you ready, love?" He said, and she reared up and dropped back to the ground.

"All lies well," she said and grabbed up her captain and set him on her back. He barely had time to latch on before she launched herself into the air.

**A/N:** _Updated 7-7-12. This one had the most changes. Mostly to line up a little better with what I wanted to do in later chapters._


	8. Mr Tharkay accepts an Assignment

_**Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.**_

_**This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS**_

**Chapter 8**

**In which Mr. Tharkay accepts an important assignment.**

Woolwich was chaos. Lines of soldiers were still pouring out of London in into the outlying areas. The sky was clear and empty and somehow all the more foreboding for all the calm and quiet above them. Emily frowned looking down on the retreating soldiers. There'd been no attack, not really, and they were giving up London. It made her almost sick to her stomach. She almost wanted to cry. Animosia lowered into the makeshift covert and swung her great head wearily to take in the view. The covert was crowded with dragons, from several fighting formations from London and Dover to couriers and other service dragons. The sight was at once promising and painful. Positive in that the crowd showed to a strong number of British dragons and negative in that there were no other coverts over another rise or in a nearby valley. This makeshift covert in Woolwich was all they had.

Emily stood fast while the ground crew removed Animosia's harness waiting grimly to be dismissed for the evening. It was closer to an hour later before she was released with the warning not to go too far in case they had to mobilize quickly. She ran immediately to the raucous corner of the covert where the feral dragons were gathered. Iskierka sat some ways apart from them watching the larger dragons from the fighting formations. She made no sign that she acknowledged Emily as the girl ran past.

"Demane!" Emily shouted as she neared the scattered crewmen. She was stopped by the jarring grip of a large grim looking aviator.

"Where're going?" Curran said gruffly, his face was dark from grit and his face shone with the sticky sort of sweat from heat and humidity.

"I was coming to visit Demane," she said and attempted to pull away from him.

He jerked her roughly for good measure, "We don't have time for this. Get back to your post Ensign. This isn't a play yard for little girls!"

"I'll have you know—"

"What? I don't care who you are; we don't have time for games. England is being invaded as we speak."

"Emily," Granby said as he approached them, "It's all right Curran, let her go. Emily, you should stay near Animosia in case we have to take flight quickly."

"Admiral Sanderson and Admiral Roland are going to be meeting with the Army Generals. I'm pretty sure we won't be moving for a few days."

"Emily, really," Granby said irritably, "You should get back to your post."

"Granby what's wrong with you?" Emily said giving him a wide earnest stare.

"It's Captain Granby, Ensign Roland," Granby said and then turned to Curran, "Could you excuse us, Curran, please?"

Curran touched his fetlock and stalked away slowing to glance back at them once or twice before joining several of the other feral captains at a fire pit.

"Now," Granby said and crossed his arms, "Demane is not here yet. With all the madness in this place I think it better if you return to Animosia—!"

"You need to go rescue Laurence!" She blurted out.

Granby looked shocked and found himself at a loss as Emily started to cry. He hesitated before putting an arm around her in an attempt to quiet her, "There's no crying in the Corps…"

"The French are here," Emily said, "In England… Granby, we need Temeraire… We need Laurence!"

Granby frowned thoughtfully and then said; "You know I have no power to bring him here."

"You have Iskierka," Emily said, "If Excidium was mine now I'd have brought Laurence and Temeraire back—"

"No," Granby interrupted, "I know you know better than—"

"Temeraire is the—"

"If Temeraire is going to help he'll have to decide to do so without Laurence. Emily, after all!"

"But Granby I—"

"They've gone again," Granby and Emily spun around to look at Tharkay. He seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"How long have you been standing there?" Granby said.

"Not long," Tharkay said. He was winding a harness in his hands wrapping the leather in a loose spool. "You were talking about rescuing Laurence."

Granby grimaced but Emily turned to Tharkay, "If Laurence was here," she said excitedly, "we'd have Temeraire."

Tharkay glanced at Granby; he looked like he wanted to smile.

"I say Temeraire is one dragon," Granby said, "You saw what they did after he turned himself in. The last thing we need is to start drawing more negative attention to the Corps by committing treason while the enemy is on our shore in order to rescue a convicted traitor."

Emily glared at him and Tharkay raised an eyebrow then turned to gaze in Iskierka's direction, "I think you understand what he's dealing with better than most."

Granby frowned thoughtfully; his dark brows furrowed. Then he looked at Tharkay directly, "We shouldn't be talking about this."

Granby stalked away from them. Emily looked up at Tharkay, still pleading.

"Would you rescue Laurence?"

Tharkay stared at her for a moment, expressionless. Then he shrugged, "I suppose I would not like him to be executed."

"It would be a hideous waste!" Emily said growing bolder, "Will you rescue him Tharkay?"

"How much will you pay me?" Tharkay said coolly, looking around.

Emily glared at him and her face reddened with anger. Then she dug into a pocket inside her coat pulled out a string of glass beads and the necklace Lady Allendale had gifted her. Tharkay smiled, these were the treasures of a little girl. He touched the glass beads and then said, "I cannot accept these—"

"But I don't—" Emily started.

"But I am in need of a rabbit—for my bird. If you could persuade your friend to oblige me, I will do what I can."

Emily brightened immediately and made as if to hug him, but Tharkay stepped back from her; adding, "I make you no promises. But I will do what I can."

"Admiral Roland," Jane looked up surprised to see Tharkay—especially since he hadn't been announced. She started to comment on it but Tharkay quietly informed her that Frette was, indeed, asleep at this very moment, and quite disinclined to notice anyone coming or going from her tent.

"Mr. Tharkay," Jane could little hide the weariness and frustration in her voice, "What can I do for you?"

"I should like a commission in the Corps," He said.

"Done," Jane said, "Congratulations Captain Tharkay."

He just looked at her, incredulous.

"Well?" Jane said.

"That was easy," Tharkay replied.

"Actually," Jane said rising from her seat to stand nearer to him, "You already knew I'd grant it to you if you should ask. So why the sudden change of heart?"

Tharkay shrugged. "I think this might be interesting. Everyone was dreading an invasion, and now that we are quite thoroughly invaded, it will be interesting to sort it out."

Jane moved away from him and walked over to the footlocker where her things were stored. She shifted items around and returned with a gently used set of Captain's bars. She reached up to pin it to his jacket but he stayed her hand.

"There is something," Tharkay said, "I would have the pleasure of serving beside William Laurence."

"Well," Jane said, dropping her arms. The brass rank clinked metallic in her hand. She offered Tharkay an exasperated look. "There's no helping that."

"I should not like to impose," Tharkay said, "But you've a Celestial on the side of France—who, by the way, have just invaded England—and our British Celestial is idling in Wales."

Jane, glaring at him, opened her mouth to protest.

"There are occasions where one must proceed with all due processes within the regulations and directives set before us; and there are times when one might simply attempt apology after the fact."

Now Jane was incredulous, "Do you mean we should—?"

"So long as I was following orders," Tharkay shrugged, "after all, what is the worst they will do? He's already sentenced to death as a traitor. If the French should take him what is there to stop him cooperating?"

"Laurence wouldn't—" Jane protested.

"You and I know that," Tharkay smiled, "But I dare say it would help bring the Admiralty 'round to our cause, among other things. They can hardly turn him away in this plight if he and the dragon were already here."

Jane returned his smile and tugged on his collar so that she could pin the rank to his shoulders. "Half a moment, Tharkay and you will have your orders."

Granby was frowning into the fire, trying not to listen in on Emily and Demane. The two of them were talking, heads bent conspiratorially, in a wild pastiche of Chinese, English, and what Granby could only guess was Demane's own native language. His shoulder still pained him though he'd been given a good prognosis. Aside from the pain, he had little restriction in movement.

Granby startled when Little sat beside him, showing him a bottle of finer spirits and hoping to raise his own. Little poured some of it into a dented tin cup and held it out to Granby.

"Is Iskierka still sulky?" He asked, concerned.

Granby took a swallow and made a face as it burned down his throat. He nodded.

"Immortalis is doing much better today," Little said.

Granby gave no response; he only stared into the fire. Little, who was disinclined to idle conversation gave up immediately and stared into the fire next to him. They passed the cup and shared out most of the bottle before Emily and Demane finally gave up their chatter and disappeared to their respective dragons. Granby sighed aloud as his eyes followed their departure.

"I do wish there was something we could do to help him," Granby said.

Little said nothing, but turned to look at Granby.

"When I think about some of the things Temeraire used to speak of and how Laurence seemed to want so much to make him happy…" Granby trailed off and took the cup from Little, "When I think about the troubles I have with Iskierka…"

"Even so," Little said, "We mustn't spoil them…"

Granby frowned. He was thoroughly drunk by now and fell immediately into tears. Little put an arm over Granby's trembling shoulders.

"I've ruined her," he said, sobbing, "She's spoilt, and it's my fault."

Little said nothing, but held him until the worst of his sobbing subsided.

"She isn't that bad," Little said.

"Not that bad?" Granby said, a little too loudly, "Immortalis and Nitidus—"

"They're still alive, and likely to receive no permanent damage." Little's voice was soft and calm, but there was a note of concern trying very hard not to be noticed.

"Oh, what will become of us now?" Granby said.

Jane stirred when Tharkay got out of her bed. He paused to look at her.

"It's after midnight," he said in explanation. He was moving around the space of her tent gathering his things.

Jane pulled herself up into a sitting position and stared at him; almost shocked that they had done this. It was not that she found thought him unattractive—only he was not someone she ever would have considered.

Tharkay made a rangy figure, rather like a feral creature himself. In the low light of the candles myriad scars stood out in sharp relief across his back and shoulders. Jane studied them surreptitiously while he dressed.

"Are those claw marks across your left shoulder?" she said.

He turned as if startled and then slipped on his shirt, "Yes." Tharkay replied but offered no other explanation. Instead he walked back to her map table where the remnants of a shared meal had been pushed aside and several maps of London and Dover laid out for planning. He perused them silently as he pulled on his leather vest and then his padded jacket. The brass Captain's rank glinted golden in the candlelight.

"You know," Jane began carefully, "If you should encounter some trouble on your way I cannot help you."

"I understand," Tharkay said, securing his jacket.

"No one can know about this until Laurence is delivered safely to British officials."

"And what guarantee can you make for his safety once they have him?"

"I can convince them to send him to retrieve Temeraire. I don't see that being a problem, given the current situation."

"And if he should be lost in the attempt?" Tharkay's question hung in the air unanswered and when he turned to look at Admiral Roland she was glaring at him.

"I'm choosing to trust you Mr. Tharkay," she sighed, "I hope you would do me the courtesy of deserving that trust."

Tharkay stared at her directly for several long moments the faintest hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth. "I should be on my way."

**A/N:** _Finally! New chapter! Thanks for reading!_


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